The Minister of Public Welfare
by gethsemane342
Summary: The districts of Panem need to be punished for the Rebellion. The thirteen ministers and the President are meeting to discuss how. One-shot, telling how the idea of the Hunger Games came to be.


Disclaimer: I do not own The Hunger Games.

The Minister of Public Welfare

"That is enough," hisses the President. "I will not have two of my ministers arguing like little children. The matter will be decided in the next meeting. Now both of you: sit down."

Kasen scowls and sits down. Marcus stays standing for an extra second before slowly, grudgingly, sitting down. He glares across the table. If only he could get the Minister of War around to his way of thinking.

"Thank you," the President states calmly. "Now, what is the next item to be discussed?"

"The punishment of the districts of Panem."

"Oh, yes. Good." The President grins, baring teeth. "Now, as you all know, the districts have to be punished for the Rebellion. We have tried being lenient before and this is what happens. Now, this is free for anyone to discuss."

Kasen smiles menacingly. "I think we should do some public executions. Strike fear into their hearts."

The Chief of Peacekeepers, Aleron, looks at him pityingly. "We can't do that at random. There'll be _more_ rebellions and my department's stretched a bit thin at the moment."

"But we can't just let them get away with it," says someone else.

"They have to learn."

"They would have done the same to us."

"Alright, how about this: we'll tax them. Heavily. Imprison those who resist." This is the Minister of Construction, a short, balding man who hardly ever speaks.

"That could work. It's less vicious than executions but has just enough menace. I like it."

"Maybe with an extra horrible punishment for those who resist? Cutting out their tongues?"

Marcus can't believe what he's hearing. He's sitting in the same room with people who must be on a completely different planet to him. Without thinking about it, he shakes his head in disgust. Aleron notices.

"We haven't heard from Marcus and it looks like he has something to say. Go ahead, Marcus. What do you think?" The man smiles mockingly, his eyes cold as ice. Marcus hates the way the war ministers feel the need to gang up on him.

Nevertheless, this is his chance. "We don't need to punish them. Look at the districts. They're in ruin. We have District 13 as a reminder to them. Yes, punish those who resist but why inflict more pain upon them? I say, leave them be."

"Now why did I think he would say that?" mutters Kasen. A few people laugh.

"Maybe because I'm doing my job," retorts Marcus angrily. "Looking out for the people of Panem which _doesn't_ just mean the Capitol."

"Your job," repeats Kasen. He turns to Aleron and the Minister of Weapon Production, an old war veteran called Figaro. "Does anyone know why we need a Minister of Public Welfare? Just looks to me like we had to place the war hero somewhere." The other two men snigger. Marcus blushes furiously.

"My role in the Rebellion has nothing to do with my job," he retorts as calmly as he can. "I did my best for the people of Panem then, just as I do now."

"Gentlemen," hisses the President. The four men stop arguing. When the President is angry, he always hisses. "I believe I suggested that we stop acting like children. Be quiet, all of you."

"Yes, sir," the men mumble.

"Good. Marcus, I understand your concerns but we need to remind the citizens of the district that we in the Capitol have total control. I don't think taxation is the answer. How can we take money from those who have little? No, it must be something else."

The table falls to silence as all the council members think about it. Then, finally, Figaro speaks up.

"How about we execute a tenth of the population, every year? Or put them to slavery?"

"No slavery," Araceli says firmly. "Less people will be allowed to have medicine after that. It will put us out of a job." She folds her arms purposefully.

"But execution's fine, I suppose," Marcus mutters sarcastically.

"What was that, Marcus?" asks Araceli.

He shrugs. "Don't you think people will get annoyed if we start routinely decimating them? Then we'll have another rebellion. Good idea."

"Well, have you got a better suggestion?" asks Figaro mockingly.

"I gave you my suggestion."

"Hey, just to jump in here," squeaks the Minister of Propaganda - a cheerful man. "Marcus is right. We can't decimate the population like that."

"Thank you!"

"But what if we did it to the children? Show that we can get to them by hurting those they love."

"I take it back," says Marcus. "That's barbaric! That's even worse. We can't go around executing people's _children_."

"Why not?" mutters Figaro.

Marcus tries desperately to think of a reason that these people would actually listen to. "Because, that would bring us down to their level. Execution is exactly what they think we would do. And execution of children is more likely to bring on another rebellion." He looks at Aleron. "Do you really want to start fighting another rebellion? I know _I_ had enough problems in the last one."

To everyone's surprise (including Marcus') Aleron nods thoughtfully, his angry eyes unusually relaxed. "Marcus is right. That would spark another rebellion."

The Minister of Science adds, "Even if it didn't spark active rebellion, there would be passive resistance. Research would slow down. If we are voting, then my vote is against."

Some people nod. Others shake their heads. Marcus feels a glimmer of hope. They may not be agreeing with him for the right reasons but at least they're agreeing.

The President holds up a hand and the room turns to face him. "I believe you are correct," he says slowly, "but I like the idea." He turns to Vere. Vere is the youngest and newest member of the council, a sly-faced young man who took on the role of Minister of Economics after the old one died. "Vere, I believe you had an idea you wished to contribute?"

"Yes sir," Vere says smoothly. "I've been thinking about this for a while and I believe it ties in perfectly with the topic we are currently discussing. If I may outline it?"

The President nods. Marcus begins to feel sick. This is too coincidental. Has this been set up?

"Well, Ladies and Gentlemen, this is my idea. Every year, we hold an event. One boy and one girl from each district will come to the Capitol and will be placed in an arena. They'll fight each other to the death and the last one left can go back to their district. It can be televised."

"Yes, yes," squeaks the Minister of Propaganda, "I love it. People could bet on it. We could have prizes for the winner. Turn it around so the people of Panem will view it as a competition, a show. I can see it now. Posters, prizes, costumes…"

Kasen grins viciously. Anything to do with violence excites him. "We'll give the brats training and put on a _real _show. I vote yes."

More murmurs of assent. Marcus feels sick with horror. "This is wrong," he states. "We can't do this. Murder children on television and make it look like a game? This is wrong."

A few groans around the room. "It's not like we're torturing them," mutters someone. "We're giving them a sporting chance."

"Imagine it was your children," Marcus pleads. "What would you think?" He turns to Araceli and the Minister of Food. "You're both mothers. Araceli, you were showing me a picture of your son earlier. How would you feel if he was cut up on T.V., right in front of your eyes?"

"Terrible," she whispers.

"Exactly. It's inhumane."

"But it presents a clear message," Vere says. "It tells them we have total control. They hurt us, we hurt their children. This reminds them who has the power here."

"But they _know_ who has the power here," Marcus cries, frustrated. "They just need to look at District 13 for that."

"But don't you agree that they need reminding?" asks the President softly, his cold eyes locked on Marcus. The Minister shivers.

The sensible thing to do here would be to agree with the President. Marcus knows that. But he can't do it. He can't just admit defeat about something like this. Not something this wrong.

"With all due respect, sir, I do not," Marcus says quietly. If they didn't have so much dignity, everyone around the table would be gasping.

"You … disagree?" asks the President, raising an eyebrow.

Time to see if this democracy of the council still exists, Marcus thinks. "Yes, sir. I do. The people of Panem have learnt their lesson, sir. Even when I was fighting in the war, many of them wanted to give up. They know better than to rebel. If we do this, we sink down to new levels, the sort of levels we have been telling them we would protect them from. Sir, I respectfully ask that we stop this … this … this atrocity before it can begin. If we must punish them, then let us find some less harsh means."

One look at the President tells him that his argument has gotten him nowhere. "Very nice, Marcus, but this isn't a punishment as such now is it?" The man smiles like a fond old grandfather. "We're offering them a competition, money, food. This is like the Olympics of old."

"No, sir," Marcus says quietly. "What you described is for one person and one district. Twenty-three children will die every year. I can't let that happen, sir. That's not what I fought for. That's not what anyone fought for."

"Don't be so rude," Kasen barks suddenly. "Have some respect, Marcus."

Everyone else takes up the cry but Marcus says nothing. His face is set like stone. This is one thing he won't give in on.

"No, no," says the President. "This isn't a tyrannical rule. Marcus is free to give his opinion as he wishes." He smiles, his eyes glittering coldly. "I say we bring this to a vote." He looks to his left. "Kasen?"

"Yes," he growls. "This is exactly what we need to teach that scum a lesson."

"Aleron?"

"Yes. I don't trust those people."

"Figaro?"

"Yes." He laughs. "Certainly, yes."

"Kalare?"

"I believe they need to be taught a lesson, but I don't know whether this is right. I abstain."

"Araceli?"

"No. I cannot endorse anything which brings suffering on those whom I am bound to heal." She shrugs. "That is the oath I am sworn by."

"Septimus?"

"Yes. This is exciting." He's breathless, as always.

"Marcus?"

"You know my answer," the young man says flatly. "This is wrong. I vote no."

"Ossian?"

"Abstaining."

"Virgil?"

"Who's to say this won't lead to more deaths? Maybe in future but, for now, my vote must be no."

"Elata?"

"No. I wouldn't want my child on these Games so how could I allow anyone else's child to be there?"

"Vere?"

"I'd look quite stupid if I voted no, since this was my idea," he laughs. "Yes."

"Javan?"

"I agree with Virgil so my vote must be no."

"Thaddeaus?"

"I don't know. I abstain."

The President looks at his sheet. "Very well. The vote stands at five to yes, five to no and three abstaining. This means that my vote will tip the balance."

Yes, thinks Marcus. But your vote would have counted for two hundred anyway.

"It is my decision that these Games be discussed further and, with proper planning, be enacted. I agree with Vere that they will send out a clear message to the people of the districts and I also feel that it is not, in any way, cruel or barbaric – these children will be trained and well-fed. They will all have a chance of winning. We shall meet again tomorrow to discuss how this can become practice. Meeting adjourned."

The Ministers of Panem get up with much talking. No one seems too worried about the prospect of these Games. Even the ministers who voted against the Games start talking as though nothing major has happened. Only Marcus is silent as he gets up.

As Marcus is about to leave the room, the President calls him back. They are the last two in the room and Marcus realises, with a sickening feeling, that this is because something bad is about to happen.

But then, what could be much worse than what has just happened?

The President stands up and faces Marcus. The Minister looks the older man right in the eye, radiating defiance.

"Marcus," the President sighs. "Marcus, Marcus, Marcus. You remind me so much of your father, you know. He was a brave and dedicated man too."

"Thank you."

"But, sometimes, maybe that bravery is too much on the wrong side." He shakes his head. "That's nothing of course, just an errant thought. But time is of the essence so I will just get straight to the point. I think we are over-staffed, don't you?"

"No, sir," replies Marcus. "Not at all."

"You don't see it? I will tell you, Marcus, that the amount of arguing I have seen today is extraordinary."

"Sir, I have a right to speak and I see no reason to-"

"No, no, you misunderstand me," the President interrupts him smoothly. "That was not an attack on you, it was simply a fact. And the amount of arguing has increased since the increase in Ministers."

"Sir, arguing is a good thing though. It allows you to see all sides of the topic."

The President nods his head gravely. "Yes, it does, but only within reason. The arguing I see goes beyond reason and into personal beliefs. I cannot allow that in our government."

Unless it's your beliefs, Marcus thinks furiously.

"I have been pondering this for a while. Marcus, I do not think your post has much use in our country today. We have Septimus for Public Opinion and Propaganda, Araceli for Health, Vere for the economic status. I'm afraid that there really is no job for you."

Of course there's a job for me, Marcus thinks sourly. I have to make sure those people you mentioned treat the people of Panem correctly. I have to make sure we still _have_ a people by the end of _your_ handling. I represent their rights, their thoughts and feelings. I'm their last line of defence.

The President sighs. "I'm very sorry to tell you this but I shall have to remove the Office of Public Welfare. You shall, of course, be paid for the next three months and I would be more than happy to arrange a job for you somewhere else in government or in the army. I know you made a fine soldier."

"But what about the others in my office?" asks Marcus.

"They will be provided for as well."

"Why?" Marcus doesn't know what else to say. "Why do this?" He pauses. "Is this because I disagreed with you, sir? I'm very sorry about it."

The President raises one eyebrow in surprise – or rather, feigned surprise. "No, of course not, Marcus. This is not a tyranny. My ministers are free to speak their mind. No, this is simply trying to make the running of Panem far smoother. When you go back, you will need to start packing up and you will also need to tell your workers about his change. A memo will be sent around later to say who needs to stay and who must not arrive tomorrow. I will make the arrangements to remove the office." He sticks out his hand. "I wish you all the best in future."

Marcus considers ignoring the hand but, angry though he is, he isn't stupid enough to annoy the President further. He shakes the hand before turning and leaving the room.

Numbly, Marcus walks back to his office and sits down. His secretary offers him a cup of tea but Marcus shakes his head.

"Sir, you have that meeting with Nemo Vasir and he wants you to read these notes by five. Shall I leave them here?"

"No," Marcus says, finding his voice. "That, er … that won't be necessary."

"Sir?"

Marcus stands up and opens his table drawer. "Cancel the meeting with Mr. Vasir please. I'm afraid it won't be going ahead."

"What reason should I give him, sir?"

Marcus sighs. "Tell him that the meeting he desires will have to be re-scheduled through the President because, as of now, the Office of Public Welfare does not exist."

"What?" The woman is shocked. She's used to hearing all sorts of excuses for meetings being cancelled but never this one.

Marcus looks his secretary in the eye, a defeated look on his face. "The President has decided that this Office provides no useful aid in the running of Panem and will therefore be disbanded. I need to make a note telling everyone."

"But … but why?" she gasps.

"We are apparently hindering the other offices," he replies dryly. "According to our leader. And we don't want that."

The woman sits down next to Marcus. "I don't understand though," she says. "Why do this? Why fire us all?" She shakes her head. "Why get rid of this office? We do so much good work." There is a tremor in her voice as she whispers brokenly, "I just don't understand."

"I do," Marcus says harshly. "I understand perfectly." Tears begin to trickle down his face and he looks away. "After all, what use is the Office of Public Welfare when no one cares about the public?"


End file.
